


Cold Nights

by lilacsilver



Series: Days Go By [3]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Psychological Trauma, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsilver/pseuds/lilacsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>What he says turns Steve’s blood to ice. "Somebody just grabbed Lewis off the street, and we have every reason to believe they’re going to kill her.”</em>
</p><p>After nearly a year with Steve, Darcy faces the dark side of being a superhero's girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            “ _There’s nothing here_ ,” Tony says sharply over the comm. “ _What the hell? Is this some kind of trap?_ ”

            “Fall back,” Steve orders. “If he’s right I don’t want to stick around.”

            They rendezvous at the waiting transport and try to figure out just what’s going on. The call-out had seemed legitimate: intel about an AIM storehouse, but the building in question is empty and abandoned.

            Five minutes later, Fury calls. He sounds downright murderous, so it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s figured it out too, but what he says turns Steve’s blood to ice.

            “ _Get your asses back here. Somebody just grabbed Lewis off the street, and we have every reason to believe they’re going to kill her._ ”

\--

            The air in the conference room crackles with barely-controlled anger. Steve isn’t the only person there, or even in the building, who loves Darcy. She just has that kind of effect on people, even hardened SHIELD agents.

            Thor growls occasionally, holding Mjolnir in a white-knuckled grip. He’s clearly ready for a fight, to tear apart anyone who tries to get in his way. Steve knows exactly how he feels.

            “Settle, boys,” Natasha says. She is carefully expressionless, but it seems to Steve that he can see cracks in the façade. “We can’t do anything until we find out where she’s being held, and by whom.”

            “No shit,” Tony snaps. “But we’re allowed to be pissed. She’s one of us, and whoever’s got her knows that. They’re not throwing her a damn birthday party.”

            Before Natasha can respond, the door opens to admit Maria Hill. She doesn’t look particularly happy, but then again, she never does.

            “We don’t know who it is,” she says, “but they’re backed by AIM. We’re trying to pin down a location now.”

            Steve tenses up even more. He wants to yell at Hill, to ask what the hell is taking so long. Darcy is trapped and scared and probably in pain, and they can’t afford to take much more time.

            “We _will_ find her, Captain. I swear to you we’ll find her,” Hill says, her eyes boring into his. “Everyone who can be spared is on this. If there’s even a blip, we’ll see it.”

            She’s dropped the cold professionalism, and her voice is edged in worry. He remembers that she’s friends with Darcy, too; they go out to bars together when they can.

            “Thank you,” he tells her. She nods and leaves the room.


	2. Chapter 2

            SHIELD is no closer to finding Darcy, four hours in. The team has abandoned the conference room; none of them can look at each other, so it’s easiest to separate until they’re needed.

            Steve’s in the gym, taking his anger out on a punching bag, when Fury’s voice comes over the PA system.

            “ _We’ve got her.”_

            He can’t get upstairs quickly enough. The others are a beat behind him, impatient to hear the intel and get going.

            “What’d you find?” he asks.

            “We didn’t. The kidnapper sent us a message with coordinates.”

            Steve blinks. He hadn’t been expecting _that_ , but he thinks it’s got to be some kind of trap. By the looks on their faces, the others agree.

            “How are we gonna play this?” Clint asks. “We can’t go in there blind.”

            Steve is restless. He knows he’s got to be the leader, but he can’t focus on anything but the thought of Darcy being hurt. The longer they sit here, the less likely it is that they’ll find her alive.

            “I don’t care,” he growls. “The bastard’s got my girl, and I’m going after him with or without the rest of you.”

            “Steve,” Natasha says. “We’ll bring her home, and we’ll do it together. But Clint’s right. We need a plan.”

            He puts his head in his hands and lets them talk strategy; his mind is giving him nothing but increasingly worse flashes of what Darcy might be going through. Soon, though, Tony claps him on the shoulder.

            “Let’s get goin’, Cap. We’ll tell you the plan on the way.”

\--

            The coordinates take them upstate to a modest little building that nevertheless reeks of AIM. It’s impossible to tell what exactly goes on there from the outside; once they’re in, it’s pretty obviously a “medical” research facility.

            “ _They grabbed her to test something_ ,” Natasha hisses over her com. “ _Since we don’t know what, whoever finds her, be careful._ ”

            Steve is silent, too intent on searching for Darcy. Room after room is empty, until he gets to a closed door and hears faint whimpers of pain behind it.

            “I think I’ve found her,” he mutters.

            “ _I’m on my way to you now,_ ” Natasha answers immediately. “ _Do nothing until I get there_.”

            She drops out of a vent within a few minutes and easily picks the lock, and they enter the room together.

            Darcy is lying on a cold metal table, sweat-soaked and trembling violently. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, and she doesn’t seem to recognize them.

            “No, please, no,” she whimpers. “No more.”

            “It’s okay. We’re going to get you back home,” Natasha murmurs, as Steve approaches the table to pick Darcy up.

            It’s far easier said than done. The moment he touches her, she screams in agony and tries to pull away.

            Natasha looks on grimly, eyes tight, until he finally manages to scoop Darcy into his arms. She’s outright sobbing now, though he’s trying to avoid touching her skin. He doesn’t know what they did to her, and thinks he might be better off never knowing.

            “ _You guys got her?”_ Hawkeye’s voice is tinny in his ear. “ _’Cause we need to get the hell out of here **now**._ ”

            “What’s wrong?” Natasha asks.

            “ _I’ve found a bomb. We’ve got less than six minutes before it blows.”_

            “We’re on our way out now.”

            Somehow, they’re well away and on the plane before the bomb goes off. Steve can’t bear to look at Darcy, who is being tended by a solemn Bruce.

            “Whatever they gave her…I’ve never seen this before,” he says. “The slightest touch is torture.”

            “I cannot stand to see her this way,” Thor rumbles.

            “You’re not alone there, buddy,” Tony says, subdued. The flight home seems to take hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY.


	3. Chapter 3

            There turns out to be nothing the doctors at SHIELD can do for Darcy but treat the minor cuts and bruises she sustained when first taken. They have to wait for her system to metabolize and flush out whatever she’s been dosed with.

            “I’m sorry, Captain,” says Dr. Moon for the fifteenth time. He wishes she’d quit apologizing, but doesn’t say so; it wouldn’t be fair to take it out on her. She’s one of the nicer folks in medical, not to mention one of the toughest: she’s taken a bullet for an agent more than once in the past. She’s practically a legend among their ranks.

            “It’s all right,” he replies. “I know you’re doing the best you can.”

            One corner of her mouth quirks up. “Damn right I am. You can come see her now, if you want.”

            Part of him doesn’t, but that part doesn’t get a say. He gets up and follows her down the dimly lit hallway to one of the private rooms. She opens the door for him and then silently walks on.

            He hadn’t really looked at Darcy back in the facility, too focused on getting her out of there, but he looks now. Her wrists are rubbed raw, and her pale skin is littered with dark bruises. She’s quiet now, but not still; occasionally she shivers or twitches with the continued effects of the unknown chemical.

            He thinks she’s asleep, but as he watches, her blue eyes flutter open. There’s recognition there, once she’s able to focus.

            “Steve?” she chokes out. “Is this…is this real?”

            “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s real,” he reassures. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

            She bursts into tears and frees a hand from the scratchy blankets to reach out to him. “I-I thought…oh, oh, God. P-please don’t, don’t leave m-me.”

            “Shh, Darcy,” he whispers, tangling his fingers with hers and just holding on. “I’m not going anywhere.”

            He stays all night, not letting go even when a nurse comes in to check on her a couple of hours later. She eventually falls asleep again sometime in the early morning, though it’s a restless, interrupted sleep.

            Dr. Moon pokes her head in around seven-thirty.

            “We need to get a blood sample to see what’s going on with that drug,” she says softly. “I don’t know if…she might not react well to that.”

            “Should I leave?” he asks, though he has no intention of doing so.

            “Hell no, son,” she responds. It’s strange to hear her call him that, though he supposes he’s technically younger than she is. “After what she’s been through, she’s gonna need you to lean on more than she ever has. If I had my way, you wouldn’t be allowed to leave this room until we decide _she_ can.”

            He smiles fleetingly, because that right there is the reason Sadie Moon is so respected. She knows her people, from the most junior agents all the way up to, well, him; and she always knows exactly what they need.

            “You know, you’re a hell of a lady.”

            “Save that sweet talk for your gal,” she tells him. “A nurse will be in here in a minute so we can get that sample, and then we’ll be out of your hair for a while.”

            Darcy wakes up and clings to Steve until they’re done, hiding her face in his shoulder. It breaks his heart to see his strong, brave Darcy undone, shattered like glass; and even more that he doesn’t know how to help her.

            “We’re done,” Sadie finally murmurs.  The nurse carefully presses a cotton ball to Darcy’s arm, and after a few minutes replaces it with a band-aid.

            They both leave quickly, and Steve and Darcy are alone again. She starts to tremble in his arms, so he strokes her back to try and soothe her, whispering comforts against her hair.

\--

            The rest of the team comes by that day, one at a time so as not to upset her, careful to leave at least an hour between visits. Tony brings a ridiculous, fluffy, bright orange teddy bear with _GET WELL SOON_ embroidered on its belly in red. It doesn’t quite make Darcy smile, but her eyes light up so briefly Steve almost misses it.

            Bruce only stays a moment, too uncomfortable to linger. Thor is next, taking pains not to speak at his usual volume; it doesn’t really work, and a nurse comes by to kick him out.

            Clint, when he arrives, is carrying what appears to be the orange bear’s great-grandfather. It’s three feet tall and striped in eye-searing shades of purple and green.

            “Where did you and Tony find these things?” Darcy asks hoarsely. She’s hugging the smaller bear pretty tightly, though, as if it can shield her.

            “Stark made me do it,” Clint says. “He wanted to buy all of them that the store had, but we talked him down.”

            He leaves shortly after that, because Darcy’s energy is waning. She slips into a nap, but is awake in time for Natasha’s check-in.

            The red-haired assassin is gentler than Steve’s ever seen her, though not completely unguarded. She doesn’t say much, but hers is a solid and quietly reassuring presence.

            The results of the blood test come back while she’s sitting with them, and it turns out to be nothing but good news.

            “The levels of the drug in your blood are lower than we expected,” Sadie says. “At this rate you should be able to go home tomorrow…eh, no later than noon. We’ll have to test you again tonight.”

            She smiles at them and ducks back out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this -- two chapters in the same day -- will (probably!) never happen again. It's just that I spent most of today not doing anything but writing, and ended up with two chapters of material, so.

            The next day, right at noon as the doctor had promised, Darcy is cleared to go home. Steve doesn’t let go of her hand until they reach their floor in the Tower, where they’re greeted by insistent meows. The sleek gray tuxedo cat’s name is Tuna, due to the fact that most of the time the only thing that gets her attention is the sound of the can opener.

            She bats at the hem of Darcy’s jeans, indicating that she wants to be picked up and cuddled _right now_. Darcy ignores her in favor  of limping over to the couch, and Tuna follows, still meowing.

            Once she’s settled, Tuna jumps up and immediately takes over her lap, purring loudly. Darcy runs a finger over the cat’s fuzzy ears before sighing and dropping her hand. This doesn’t please Tuna, who narrows her green eyes at her ‘mama’ before descending from the couch and stalking out of the room.

            Steve sits down and opens his arms, and Darcy slumps against him with another sigh.

            “Do you want anything?” he murmurs. “Water? Something to eat?”

            “Chicken soup,” she requests. “And crackers? I want a bath first.”

            “You got it, sweetheart.” He runs it for her, adding her favorite bubble-bath. She undresses as quickly as she can and sinks into the almost-too-hot water with a sound of relief, shutting her eyes.

            “Are you okay in here?” he asks. He’s got to be _sure_ before he’s willing to leave the room.

            “Mm-hmm.”

            “Call me if you need anything.” With that, he goes to fix the soup. She’ll be all right for a few minutes.

\--

            When the soup is ready, he goes to check on her and finds her already out of the bath and about to crawl into bed. She’s got on one of his shirts and her favorite worn sweatpants, and looks bone-tired.

            “Do you want me to save the soup for later?”

            “Yeah, please,” she says before yawning widely and tugging the covers up to her chin. He leans down and kisses her softly on the cheek, brushing a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes.

            “Sleepy,” she mumbles, then, “Stay with me?”

            “Can I put the soup up first?” he asks softly. She grumbles something but doesn’t really object, so he takes care of it and then returns.

            She’s still awake, but barely, when he kicks off his shoes and settles down on top of the blankets. He just watches her, and knows he won’t be leaving this spot for anything; the world could be ending right now, and he wouldn’t move an inch.

            It’s the last peaceful sleep she’ll have for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

            It’s late. Darcy’s been home for two days, and Steve can tell his constant hovering is starting to bother her. She wants him near her, but not _too_ near; he can’t really help it, though.

            “It’s almost midnight,” he says. “Time for bed?”

            “You go on,” she replies. “I’ll join you in a bit.”

            He nods and stands up from the couch, glancing back over his shoulder. She’s on the couch, scratching Tuna behind the ears, looking at but not really focused on the television. He looks away and walks on, painful though it is. Right now she’s not his bright-star girl and he has no idea how to help her besides give her the time she needs to heal.

            He lies awake for an hour, then two, and she never comes to bed. It’s nearly three in the morning when he makes up his mind to check on her.

            She’s still on the couch, still awake. The cat has long since wandered off, but otherwise everything is the same. He kneels on the floor next to her, and she blinks slowly and looks down at him, but he can’t quite meet her eyes. Truth be told, he hasn’t been able to look her in the eye at all since rescuing her.

            Oh, he’s tried. But the shadows in her eyes just remind him that he almost lost her, and he keeps going over what would have happened had he been just a few minutes later.

            “Sweetheart, come to bed,” he murmurs. “Please. You need to sleep.”

            “I can’t,” she chokes. “I can’t close my eyes, or I’ll be back in th-that p-place.”

            He gets up then, draws her into his arms and just holds her. She’s shaking all over, and her skin is like ice.

            “None of that is real,” he swears. “You’re here, you’re with me. I’m with you.”

            “Are you?” she says. “You won’t even _look_ at me. How can you say that when you…when you won’t look me in the eye?”

            She lifts her head. He forces himself to meet her teary gaze and doesn’t let himself look away. It’s not until she touches his cheek and her fingers come away wet that he realizes he’s crying too.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

            She’s got nothing to be sorry for, and he tells her so. There’s no one to blame but the bastards who took her; he doesn’t say _that_ , doesn’t want to make this even worse than it is.

            She presses closer to him, resting her forehead against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. He feels it when she starts to droop, and tightens his hold on her.

            “Bed,” he says. “You really do need to rest, Darce. I’ll be right there with you.”

            “Okay,” she sighs, letting him lead her down the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it was high time to have a chapter from Darcy's POV, so here we are!

            “I’m going back to work,” Darcy says. It’s been a week now, and whether or not she’s actually ready, she can’t leave Tony to his own devices any longer. Steve looks up from the pancakes he’s making and furrows his brow.

            “Are you sure?”

            “I’ll be fine, honey. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll text you every hour on the hour. If I forget, JARVIS will do it for me. Right, Jarv?”

            “Indeed, Ms. Lewis.”

            She watches as Steve relaxes slightly. It pisses her off, suddenly and irrationally, that he’s more reassured by the AI’s involvement than by anything she’s said.

            “Damn it, Steve,” she says. “Don’t you see that I _need_ this? I need to try to go back to something _normal!_ I can’t just hide in our apartment and do nothing!”

            She realizes, dimly, that she’s shouting. Steve looks alarmed, and takes a step backward with his hands raised in front of him. It just pisses her off more; she’s not some scared animal. She’s human and she’s his girlfriend and…and…fuck, she doesn’t even know why she’s angry. It just came out of nowhere, this white-hot fury, and it bleeds slowly away as she stands there.

            “Darcy,” he says in a soft voice. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. You don’t need me to sign off on this. If you think you should, then go.”

            He looks sadder than she’s ever seen him, and helpless on top of it, and she can’t stand to look at him. So she turns away to grab her messenger bag, still on the chair where she left it days ago.

            “Will you be free for lunch? I’m just gonna hang around the Tower. I can come back here and we can order pizza,” she says. It’s all the peace offering she can think of.

            “Yeah,” he says, sounding a little less upset. “I think I can make time.”

            “Good,” she sighs. She turns back around and accepts his offer of a goodbye hug and kiss on the forehead.

\--

            Tony isn’t quite as obnoxious as usual. He seems to be making an effort to tone it down just a tiny bit, which is really weird but not unwelcome. At least it makes her job marginally easier.

            Unfortunately, he hasn’t managed to get the manic flailing under control, and nearly takes her eye out at one point.

            “Hey, now, you want me to match Fury? We’ve talked about you flapping your arms around while holding tools.” This is good, though. It’s as close to normal as her job has ever been.

            “Oops,” he says, putting the screwdriver down. “Why are you even in here?”

            “You have a call from Hill. She wants to know where your report is from…uh, from the…recent mission.”

            She means her rescue. His eyes darken and he looks at her, serious and still for the first time all morning.

            “I haven’t written it,” he says, and of course he hasn’t. She is used to this answer by now.

            “You need to. The folks at SHIELD get kind of annoyed when things don’t get filed on time.”

            “Yeah, well. It’s still not happening.”

            She gives up, then, and goes to tell Maria he’s being particularly Stark-ish about the report.

            “ _Between you and me, it doesn’t really matter. We’ve got everyone else’s reports,”_ Maria says. “ _Among all of ‘em, they filled in all the relevant details. But it’s protocol to hear from the whole team.”_

            Darcy knows that. She also knows that it pretty much takes an act of the devil to get Tony Stark to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

            “I’ll keep bugging him about it.”

            “ _Good luck.”_

\--

            As planned, she goes back up to the apartment for lunch. Steve is already there, as is a pair of piping-hot pizzas.

            She raises an eyebrow. “You ordered without me?”

            “Yeah. I, uh, I didn’t know how long it would take with the lunch rush, so…” He shrugs.

            She opens the first box to reveal her favorite, sun-dried tomato with onion. It smells heavenly, and she wastes no time getting two slices on a plate. He goes for the extra cheese with sausage and pepperoni.

            As they eat, she feels another little fragment of normal slot back into place inside of her. It’ll take time – a _long_ time – and it won’t be easy, but she thinks she’ll eventually be able to sleep through the night again.

            She tangles her fingers with his under the table. His smile is as bright as the sun when he looks at her.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is actually the sequel to "Days Go By." No, it's not fluffy or cute, and it's not going to be.
> 
> I'm sorry if that disappoints anyone.


End file.
